Just Black: Undesirable, dating outside my race
My friend and I were on a Fresh Prince of Belair marathon and we just about finished all seasons. One thing we both pointed out were almost all the hunnies Will Smith dated in the sitcom were black girls. We spoke on it for a moment, and I remember telling her how desirable I felt just by watching Will sweet talk all his brown-skin dates on each episode. His chase, his persistence, matched with their style and their confidence, was just beautiful. I realized that inevitably, representation does matter. I felt it.
Within my city — deemed as one of the multicultural boiling pots of the world, I as a brown-skinned women don’t feel desirable to other races, including my own. I remember writing a status on my Facebook last year questioning if I was the only one that frequently questioned if other black guys like black girls. I received a ton of comments on the defence along with a few likes. Some of my acquaintances even sent me text messages for further discussion as well. While that conversation still remains at large, for a moment in my Fresh Prince of Belair bubble, I felt comfort in knowing that viewers watching the show, may have decided to finally consider girls like me appealing.
But back to reality. I don’t bother to pursue men outside my race when attempting to date. Not because I don’t want to, it’s just that I don’t feel like I make the “I’d date a Black Girl” cut. A few of my friends scoff at this remark and rebut saying they know tons of men from various ethnicities that are down with the swirl. Although, a lot of their encounters with these men sound like fetishes, weird obsessions with black female body-types or complete desperation to be “urban.” All these types of characters irritate me. I know exactly which type of guy they are referring to. These are the men that hit on me with phrases and gestures showing obsession of what they consider black culture. “Yo, wa gwan brown sugar.” In the end, it really makes the whole process to being open to guys outside my race harder.
There’s a fine line though. I want to be desirable and recognized for my beauty as a brown-skinned woman, but I also want to be considered normal and respected as a beautiful human being. I don’t want to be someone’s fetish, or experimental phase in life.
I don’t want to be someone’s fetish, or experimental phase in life.
When I’m situated around men I’m attracted to outside my race, they just aren’t looking for my type of black. They don’t necessarily oppose to dating black girls, but their type of black girl is skewed. So I stop expecting. I tip-toe into these conversations because it’s so easy to sound bitter and insecure. They usually back up their claim of black girl admiration by proceeding to show pictures and/or describing the type of black girls that they like. And, if you haven’t already guessed it, these girls are usually mixed, or have striking Eurocentric features labelled as “exotic.”
If I had a penny for every time a man showed me the closest they’d get to dating a black girl and it was no where near my features, I think I would pay off my student loans. I’ve held my tongue on pestering at why they don’t find any darker tones or black girls that aren’t mixed desirable; out of fear of sounding — jealous, angry, bitter or resentful. But, I’ve always wanted to blurt out all my concerns.
It’s also almost equivalent to asking “What about me?” and forcing them to evaluate your beauty on the fly. Of course, that’s an awkward and vulnerable position. I leave these encounters feeling unwanted, basic and feeling as though just black isn’t appealing enough. It’s almost as if I should dig deeper to find some sort of amusing mix or exoticism in my family tree to say “See, I too can be appealing.” But, then I remember how silly those girls were who would write five different ethnicities in their social media bios to seem more attractive. Besides, I thoroughly enjoy my 100% blackness.
What’s even more disheartening, are the black men that are friends of these other men and encourage them to refrain from seeing the girl versions of themselves as beautiful or dateable. I remember a black male acquaintance of mine saying girls who were mixed “just look better in everything… even in the sun.” This neglect is a slap in the face, and leaves many wondering — “If not my own then who?” But, that’s a whole larger topic and requires a bunch of logistics I refuse to dabble in.
Ultimately, I’ve morphed into a pattern of refraining from pursuing guys outside my race, due to a common fear all human beings carefully tread — rejection. I feel as though I’m sitting in an ‘Other’ category of a multiple choice questions made for men who choosing what ethnicity they will date. There’s no way I’m falling for the man who changes his lingo into urban vernacular to get my attention, or the gentleman who wants to try black girls as a phase in his life. So I continue being just black, knowing my limit so I can play within it.
